Kulee Baba

by Donald Fagen & Walter Becker

About this song

My nom d'voyage is McSwain

I carry the proper papers

I've seen the primal rhythms of the bush

I preserve great moments as they come

I'm sure this must be one...

Brightly coloured dancers on-screen

Are no more than a prelude to the ritual unfolding

No white man's eyes have ever seen

The cruel primeval rite that you're beholding

Kulee Baba

Coming your way, every Sunday

Live from Nowhere

Satellite relay, hello Broadway

My suit is a bright Irish green

The color and cut are striking

I'm something of a

standout in the crowd

Don't you want that power cable, son?

I guess I owe you one

Bored with my chief engineer

I'll mix with the mob

for all the folks at home

I'm tasting the local beer

And half the crew is dancing in the foam

Kulee Baba

Coming your way, every Sunday

Live from Nowhere

Satellite relay, hello Broadway

Sweet holy Jesus, what a night

St. Augustine was right

The cameraman began the Kulee Baba

The broadcast was over,

our featured friends were gone

I hear there's a bash in New Orleans

So long for now, we must be moving on...

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Planning

Sketch #1

Sketch #2

Sketch #3

Sketch #4